


The Rewards of Service

by ks_villain



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Power Imbalance, Slash, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:16:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ks_villain/pseuds/ks_villain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After watching a recording of Soundwave putting Arachnid in her place, Megatron decides to reward his most loyal servant. Takes place shortly after the season 1 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally writtenfor the tf kink meme. Re-written and very much improved by the hard work of the lovely [accidentalzombi](http://accidentalzombi.livejournal.com/)
> 
> Prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9739998#t9739998

Megatron’s optic ridge rose ever so slowly as he watched the recording from the Nemesis’s security cameras. It was very unlike Soundwave not to have mentioned this.

The events unfolding on screen were hardly a surprise to Megatron. The fact that his communications officer had neglected to bring them to his attention, however, was definitely unexpected. After all, a certain degree of opportunism was expected from a high ranking Decepticon, even from Soundwave.

But as Starscream, and now Arachnid, had so compellingly demonstrated, too much of a good thing could also be dangerous. Megatron allowed himself a small smile. Sometimes it almost seemed as if holding the rank of first lieutenant in his forces inevitably led to high treason. Well, he would just have to choose Arachnid’s successor with greater care. For now he would let her believe that he was unaware of her little usurpation attempt. He had more important things to deal with at the moment. Once the excitement of his victorious return – and the appearance of their “esteemed guest” Orion Pax – had calmed down a bit, it would be time to set Project Iacon into motion. Then nothing would stop him from destroying the Autobots once and for all.

With a growl, Megatron realised he had been pacing in his quarters. He felt full of restless energy - it lingered in all his circuits, hummed through his systems. It was strange, considering the events of the past few stellar cycles.

By rights, the constant fighting should have taken its toll. With the burning sensation of dark energon no longer running through his frame, Megatron had expected to feel less energetic once he returned to his quarters to rest, but it was quite the contrary. The charge he always felt right after a fight simply refused to disperse and he had been unable to recharge, or even stand still.

Against all odds he had won a fantastic victory today and his ultimate triumph was finally at hand. _Then why did he feel so restless?_

He gave the command to replay the security footage and tried to focus on the recording and Arachnid’s speech, a clever and well-timed attempt at manipulating her fellow Decepticons. 

She would have been successful, Megatron realised, had Soundwave not put her in her place.The next shot showed him stepping into her way. His communications officer was silent as always, but Megatron – who knew him better than any other – could read the sheer intent in his posture. Arachnid was a fool for not stepping down that very instant.

When Soundwave made his stand on screen, Megatron was eerily reminded of an old memory file that dated back before the war. Their first meeting. It was also the memory of Megatron’s first and only draw in the arena. Something about the scene on the Nemesis’s bridge reminded him of it, something about it felt familiar in a way that he could not explain.

It was amusing to think that Arachnid believed she could best Soundwave. She was not the only one to think so, judging by the dumbfounded expressions of the officers who stood to witness the spectacle. Breakdown was visibly shocked. Knockout hid his surprise better, but his optics clearly betrayed his feelings.

Another sharp smile tugged at the edges of Megatron’s lip plates. Few mechs aboard the Nemesis had seen Soundwave fight. Even fewer had seen him as Megatron had, in the pits of Kaon, fighting his opponents with a desperation that rivalled Megatron’s own.

But that was a long time ago. The little bout with Arachnid could hardly be called a real fight. Still, it was intriguing in its own right and it captured Megatron’s interest. It had been a while since he had last seen his third-in-command fight in battle – nowadays his talents were of better use elsewhere – and he had almost forgotten how fast Soundwave could move.

Quite possibly he had gotten even faster since their days in the gladiatorial pits, most likely due to his considerably lighter built. Megatron watched as Soundwave effortlessly blocked Arachnid’s attacks, took hold of her neck and lifted her up with an impressive display of strength that few suspected of Soundwave’s slender frame.

The one-sided confrontation on screen brought back more of Megatron’s memories, one image triggering the next in quick succession. The stained floor of the Kaon arena, the thrill of the fight, the smell of energon, the roaring noise of the audience and, above all, the sweet rush of victory as his opponent went down, finally submitting to his strength.

Growling, Megatron smashed the replay button with more force than necessary. His core temperature rose steadily as he watched his two subordinates clash once again, watched how easily Soundwave defeated Arachnid – no, _humiliated_ her – in front of the whole crew.

This time, when Soundwave stepped on his fallen opponent with a gesture of effortless dominance, Megatron’s spark gave a curious throb, one that was usually reserved for other occasions (such as when his fist connected with the Prime’s plating in battle). Luckily, Megatron was very much distracted from _this_ line of thought by a sudden flash of irritation.

Soundwave off-handedly released Arachnid and left her lying on the floor. He, Megatron, would have treated her quite differently. He would have inflicted a punishment far more painful than wounded pride. The ensuing violent thoughts did little to calm his pulsing spark.

While Megatron took a few moments to appreciate the vivid images his processor came up with, Soundwave had already stepped away from Arachnid’s prone form, moving quickly out of the security camera’s field of view. Not with his usual measured stride, however. There was urgency in his steps that Megatron did not fail to notice.

Curious to see what was so important that his most faithful soldier hurried off in such an uncharacteristic manner, Megatron changed the camera’s angle and keyed the command to zoom in on Soundwave. He had gone straight to the nearest terminal and was typing agitatedly. When Megatron looked a bit closer, he suddenly understood.

Soundwave was searching for his, _Megatron’s_ , life signal.

Of course, at that time he had been unable to contact the Nemesis from within Unicron’s lair. Soundwave, who routinely monitored his signal, must have been … rather disquieted by his prolonged absence. He was probably the only one aboard the Nemesis who was. Megatron held no delusions about the loyalty of his other officers, even if only Arachnid had been foolish enough to make a grab for power (this time).

Soundwave always kept his priorities straight. It went without saying that monitoring the long range scanners was his most important duty in a situation like this, when the fate of his leader was uncertain. However, in all the many vorns of Soundwave’s loyal service, Megatron had rarely seen the mech display so much emotion. There was alarm in his posture; it was written in the set of his wide shoulders and the frantic movements of his spindly fingers. 

Irritated, Megatron shook his head as if to dispel an unpleasant thought. He was skilled at reading even the subtle signs of Soundwave’s moods and he was very much tempted to call his behaviour “worried”, if such a term could ever be attributed to Soundwave.

Obedient? Yes. Loyal? Definitely. But worried?

The recording itself was proof of Soundwave’s unwavering loyalty. Not that Megatron needed proof of that, but occasionally even he forgot the extent of Soundwave’s quiet service. Unlike most Decepticons, Soundwave did not boast.

Optical ridges were drawn together in deep thought as Megatron turned his attention once again to the big screen. The recording had stopped in mid-motion, showing Soundwave still leaning over the ship’s console. He let his gaze linger upon Soundwave’s back, and then followed gleaming lines down to a deceptively slender waist, and below that, his elegant legs.

Venting deep to dispel the sudden heat in his large frame, Megatron realised that it had been a long time since he had really looked at Soundwave. Like a shadow, he was always there, always hovering somewhere in the background, always available when a problem had to be taken care of….

Well, now there was an interesting thought. Should he call for Soundwave to solve the little, ah, “problem” he was having with his internal temperature, which kept him from recharging?

It would not be the first time his most loyal officer served him in this fashion, even if the last time had been many vorns ago. Megatron’s processor helpfully provided the exact date, surprising him a bit. Had it truly been that long?

His thoughts drifted back to their first meeting. The arena had been filled to the last seat. The noise had been deafening. He would never forget the shock he had felt, when -- for the first time in his existence -- he had encountered a mech who could match him in a fight. The exhilaration of that moment he could still remember with startling clarity, even if the details of their fight had become blurred.

The first and only time Megatron had been forced to accept a draw in the pits had also been the day he had gained his first follower. Even if he had not been able to conquer the mech in the arena, Soundwave had nevertheless submitted to him. 

After the fight he had pledged himself to the cause, and later, in a more private setting, to Megatron himself. Soundwave had fallen to his knees. Out of his own free will he had given himself to Megatron, completely and irrevocably, and he had loved every single moment of it. Both of them had. 

Megatron’s temperature surged. Cooling vents kicked on.

 _Well, isn’t this interesting_. Tthe warlord smirked, as he tried to recall the last time he had felt so shamelessly aroused. As a general rule, he did not interface often. The last time had been well before he came to earth. Now a quick self-service session usually took care of those instances when the need became too distracting.

Interfacing with others was generally more trouble than it was worth. There was always the possibility that his chosen partner would try to take advantage of his momentary vulnerability. The potential danger alone was enough to delete interfacing from his list of pleasurable activities.

But then, he had not felt like _this_ in ages, so charged up with restless energy, so alive.

Maybe it was an intoxication of sorts. Ever since his battle with Unicron, his spark had been restless and vibrant, as if he were drunk on high grade. Or maybe it was just a consequence of indulging in all these nostalgic memories.

Times had been different then. Uncertain, yes, but also exciting. There had been fewer consequences to consider. Desperate times had created desperate mechs, who lived as if every cycle could be their last. Why deny yourself pleasure, when you could be killed in the next fight?

Curious, Megatron traced the metal of his interface panel with sharp fingertips. It was already hot to the touch. Electric shivers were running through his lower body at the slightest touch, down his inner thighs. _Oh..._ it had definitely been too long.

His valve clenched around nothing, the sensation unfamiliar but pleasant. Another stream of old memories assailed Megatron.

Soundwave. In a position similar to the one he held in the motionless image on the big screen. Offering himself. Megatron’s spark and valve both gave another wild throb.

Another memory. Smooth appendages touching everywhere at once and long digits sliding deep and touching _right there_ …  
Megatron heard himself groan and realised with a start he had been rubbing over his panel, had slowly been increasing the pressure of his strokes.

For a moment he briefly contemplated the merits of taking matters into his own servo, tracing his claws along the seams of his still closed spike housing, but no--- this was a special occasion. One that called for a private celebration of sorts.

And Soundwave did deserve a reward for his loyalty every now and again.

Decision reached, Megatron was not one to hesitate needlessly. He pulled himself up to his full height and opened a comm link frequency.

“Soundwave. Report to my quarters.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron is a tease. Soundwave doesn't complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally writtenfor the tf kink meme. Re-written and very much improved by the hard work of the lovely [accidentalzombi](http://accidentalzombi.livejournal.com/)
> 
> Prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9739998#t9739998

Predictably, Megatron did not have to wait long for Soundwave’s arrival. He had known that his third-in-command would not be in recharge when he had summoned him, not even at an hour like this. Not when there was so much work to do in addition to his normal duties, numerous as they already were.

Perhaps Soundwave had been on the bridge, catching up on accumulated surveillance reports. Or perhaps he had prowled the Nemesis’s decks in silence, keeping an optic on his fellow Decepticons and listening in to their private conversations and their reactions to the unusual circumstances of Megatron’s return. 

It was no secret that “the Eyes and Ears of the Decepticons” was known to prefer the late shifts, when the ship had moved to the planet's night-side and there was only a skeleton crew on duty. The corridors were empty and quiet then, devoid of eradicons and maintenance drones.

Rumors among the crew had it that Soundwave never recharged. When he stepped into Megatron’s private quarters, there was an air of composure and readiness about him that almost made Megatron believe them.

If Soundwave was startled by being summoned at a time like this, he certainly did not show it. As was his wont, he only tilted his head a fraction in greeting; this indicated that he was ready for whatever duty his leader wanted him to perform.

Megatron faltered briefly, which was a rare occurrence for him, but then he turned to welcome his faithful subordinate with a nod.

“Ah, Soundwave. You are always quick to obey. “

Of course, he had not expected anything less of Soundwave, but for the spark of him he could not think of anything more meaningful to say.

His own hesitation irritated Megatron, but his temper was overshadowed by a different passion. It was difficult to think clearly, to ignore the desire that coiled low in his abdomen, the insistent heat between his legs and in his very spark. He had wrestled back the control over his vents for now, but they threatened to roar back to life any moment.

Soundwave was not exactly a big help either. Megatron fixed his gaze on him, red optics blazing with an intensity that would make even the most battle-hardened Decepticons wince. Soundwave just stood there and waited patiently for his lord to continue.

Having known the other for a long time, Megatron was not fooled. Soundwave was nothing if not perceptive, which meant he had probably registered the faint smell of arousal the moment he stepped through the automatic doors. Aside from that, Megatron’s increased core temperature was difficult to miss, even for a less observant mech.

Megatron noted that Laserbeak was nowhere to be seen and he sincerely hoped that the surveillance drone was out on a reconnaissance mission. He refused to think about the possibility that Soundwave had released his symbiont right before entering his quarters.

That would imply a lot of things he did not want to think about right now, such as whether Soundwave would dare to monitor his private quarters. Sometimes even Megatron preferred not to know how his spy master acquired highly sensitive intel.

Only a few astroseconds passed as Megatron pondered all this and more. He was not a patient mech, even if he was admittedly fond of grand gestures and speeches. The gladiator in him did not like to take half-measures, but with only Soundwave as an audience, he somehow felt the effort would be wasted.

It did not take long before he gave up with a shrug of his massive shoulders. This was _Soundwave_ , he reminded himself once again. No need for flirtatious words or long-winded explanations.

“Get on the berth.”

Soundwave immediately obeyed, without the slightest hint of hesitation. As if it were the most natural thing for his lord to command him thus, as if he had just been ordered to perform an everyday service like recording a transmission or intercepting an Autobot signal.

Megatron’s optics darkened with desire as he watched the smooth, graceful movements of his communications chief. There was always something detached and untouchable about Soundwave, something about his obvious restraint and his self-imposed silence that made others avoid him, fear him.

The sudden desire to touch both overwhelmed and surprised Megatron. Two long strides brought him to his own berth. His EM field flared hot and wrapped itself around the other mech. Servos followed and reached for dark metal, sought out cables and teased the wiring hidden beneath transformation seams.

Soundwave held perfectly still as Megatron re-acquainted himself with his frame. Had he always been so slender? He looked entirely too small, spread on the berth constructed for a much bigger mech. Megatron’s servo curled possessively around a long waist, which elicited an almost imperceptible shudder.

Cooling systems ached to start up again as Megatron pressed his body closer. The low vibration of his engine and the heat that permeated his frame fought against Soundwave’s stillness, the chillness of his plating. The contrast intoxicated Megatron.

No words were necessary. Soundwave seemed to understand instinctively what Megatron wanted, so he subtly twisted his body and pushed into the demanding grasp, exposed himself in a way that -- Megatron knew -- he would only ever allow his lord and leader to witness. Otherwise he kept himself perfectly still and never reached out to reciprocate.

For a little while Megatron drew out the experience, even if his touches stayed hurried and impatient; servos ghosted over sensitive spots without lingering anywhere in particular. Only when he touched the Decepticon symbol displayed proudly on Soundwave’s arm did he slow down, idly tracing the sigil with his claws.

Megatron growled low, a dangerous, rumbling noise that spoke of his mounted impatience, but Soundwave did not seem perturbed by the sound. It was difficult to tell how he felt about all of this. Was he honored? Pleased? Indifferent? When Megatron commanded him to spread his legs however, he once again obeyed immediately.

The prompt and utter obedience calmed Megatron’s impatience, but the sight that was now presented to his optics made his desire skyrocket. He no longer bothered to control the whir of his cooling fans. Megatron pressed his servo against the exposed interface panel and squeezed with just enough force to be borderline painful, but not so much as to leave a mark.

Not that Soundwave would have protested against a little rough handling. Not that he would ever protest against anything Megatron wanted. 

So far the silent mech had been utterly calm, but when Megatron’s claws found an especially sensitive seam on the inside of his thighs, just a few inches below his groin, his slender hips jerked visibly, as he tried to either press into the sensation or get away from it. It hardly mattered. 

“Stay still,” Megatron commanded, more to see the effect of his words than out of a real wish to have his third-in-command immobilized. Soundwave stopped wriggling and obediently endured the torturous touch. However, he could not quite suppress the shallow trembling of his long legs.

Megatron’s spark surged at the strangely sensual reaction. It had been such a long time since he had last done this and he had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed the control, the unflinching submission. His servo never stopped its journey over Soundwave’s legs and groin, even as his other servo was unashamedly rubbing against his own panel.

Megatron had fully intended to draw the teasing out a bit longer; he knew from experience that it was very rewarding to tease Soundwave into losing control. But he soon realised that this would take far longer than he was prepared to ignore his own need.

It was already a lost battle; he diverted considerable processor power to keeping his own interface panel from retracting against his will, but the little twitches and the empty feeling in his valve grew more and more distracting. At last he had to stop his touches as he neared the end of his restraint.

Desire threatened to drown out any semblance of shame, but there was still a part of him that disliked having himself exposed in such a manner, disliked being so much out of control. Especially when Soundwave remained so infuriatingly calm.

As if he could sense the direction of Megatron’s thoughts, Soundwave raised his faceplate in silent inquiry.

“Open up,” Megatron finally ground out, voice huskier than usual. He tapped against Soundwave’s interface panel for emphasis. Once again, Soundwave obeyed instantly. His panel retracted with a gentle click and revealed a valve already dripping with lubricant.

 _Primus fraggit_. The sight before him was extremely arousing, even if it was not the one Megatron had wanted to see. He tore his gaze away from the inviting valve and straightened up until he loomed over Soundwave, face only inches from the other’s screen.

Megatron smirked and his own reflection smirked back at him, reflected by the black screen of Soundwave’s face. Deep down he was a bit relieved to know with certainty that Soundwave enjoyed their little session just as much as he did (not that he had any doubts of course). It satisfied Megatron to see with his own optics _how much_ Soundwave was affected by his touches.

“You are tempting me, Soundwave.” He teased the opening with one long-clawed digit to prove his point.

“But this is not what I wanted.”

Despite his words, Megatron slid his finger a few inches into the profusely lubricated valve. He found himself mesmerized by the way its inner walls squeezed down before they relaxed and allowed him deeper. When he added a second digit, slower and more deliberately than the first, he felt how the delicate material strained and struggled to stretch, despite Soundwave’s obvious willingness.

Somehow Megatron was not surprised that it had been a while for his loyal spy, too. At least as long as it had been for him, if the tightness was any indication. At the slightest movement of his fingers the tense cabling contracted around them and Megatron’s own valve clenched in sympathy.

Pits, he did not know how much longer he could go on like this. His own lubricant had been building up to a level that was almost uncomfortable. A few drops had gathered into a bead and trickled down on the inside of his resolutely shut interface panel. Megatron mentally tracked its slow progress as it moved.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could not shake the feeling that it was him who was being teased, which was very strange. After all, _he_ was the one in control. Only one word from him and Soundwave would do whatever he desired. Megatron could command him to stop being obtuse and release his spike. Surely, by now the other mech must have realized… 

_Oh, of course._

“Hrm, you want to make me say it, is that it?”

Soundwave did not need to answer, the soft hum of his cooling systems as they started up told Megatron everything he needed to know. He really should have remembered. It was such an obvious proclivity for Soundwave to have. 

Pride warred with lust for a few moments in Megatron’s processor. Part of him wanted to articulate his desires, wanted to indulge in Soundwave’s little fantasy, but another part of him prevented his mouth from forming the words, even if the mental image alone made his faceplates heat up and his spark whirl in his chest. 

Firmly ignoring the reaction of his traitorous body, Megatron turned his attention back to Soundwave’s dripping valve. He pulled his claws out a few inches before he rocked them back in – pointed tips scraped over sensitive nodes at the back of the twitching port, his thumb stroked over the spike cover.

Megatron could no longer stop his imagination from running wild. His own sensor nodes tingled with ghost sensations as he teased them both. A sharp smile tugged at the edges of his lip plates as he cocked his helmet to the side in mock curiosity. 

“What would you do, I wonder, if I decided to stop now? If I ordered you to close up and go back to work like this, without being allowed to relieve yourself?”

They both knew Soundwave would do as he was ordered, of course, but they also knew that Megatron did not have the patience for any more delays. He repeated the motion of his fingers with agonizingly slow speed, careful not to provide too much stimulation to the responsive sensors. After all, he still wanted Soundwave to be able to override his interface priority protocols and extend his spike. 

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Teasing me like this. Or do you _want_ me to lose control? It that what you want? Do you want me to take you right here and now?”

A visible shudder went through the slender frame beneath his servos. Pleased by the response, Megatron decided to “reward” his loyal third and picked up the speed a little. As he flexed his claws, he savored the feeling of Soundwave’s legs as their involuntary trembling increased. Megatron pressed his own hips closer to feel their vibration. _Primus._

“Soundwave…”

With his mouth right next to Soundwave’s audio receptors, Megatron let all his pent-up desire color his voice. He growled the name, pitch changing from aggressive into something vaguely possessive, almost a purr.

Soundwave’s energy field fluctuated wildly in response. His valve squeezed down repeatedly, impossibly tight around Megatron’s fingers, who half feared the mech on his berth was about to overload. Stunned by the power he held over his subordinate with just his words, Megatron felt the need to add another command.

“Don’t dare to overload.”

In another situation Megatron might have allowed his interface partner a quick overload before he took his pleasure, but not this time. Not when it had been so long for him, for both of them. Surely Soundwave had the self-control to hold out a bit longer. 

However that may be, it was about time to end the foreplay, before _he_ lost the last vestiges of self-control and gave in to the absurd urge to grind his interface panel against Soundwave’s leg.

“Open… up… for… me.”

Every barely audible growl was underlined by a shallow plunge into tight heat.

Despite being so cruelly distracted by the treatment of his valve, Soundwave managed to re-tract his panel and pressurized his spike. His being able to override interface protocols in such a state was quite a feat; Megatron had to admit that much. 

Suddenly impatient, he removed his claws from the leaking valve, grasped the still extending spike and smeared lubricant all over the tip. Megatron was not exactly gentle as he pulled out with a quick jerking motion, which caused Soundwave to emit a sound somewhere between a gasp and a static filled moan, breaking the silence that he had held onto.

It was an unspoken signal between the two of them. “Stay still…” Megatron commanded as he finally let his own valve cover retract with a sense of palpable relief. The sensation of cold air as it flowed over the burning hot metal and against his oversensitive valve felt strange, but it also made him ache with arousal. 

If nothing but air already felt that good… Megatron fixed his optics on the fully erect spike in front of him and briefly tried to remember what it would feel like, before he decided that he would rather experience for himself now. 

“… and pull up your legs.”

Soundwave nodded his head slightly as he acknowledged the order and shifted to make room on the berth. Once again he appeared to have mastered his self-control, but Megatron was sure the optics hidden beneath the glowing screen were fastened on his valve (and the tiny bead of lubricant trailing along his inner thigh) as he climbed onto the berth between two dark thighs. 

There was some awkward positioning due to their size difference. In Megatron’s memories, this had been a lot easier. He had not accounted for Soundwave’s lighter built nowadays, which made it a bit difficult for Megatron to straddle him as he positioned his own valve over the slick spike.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No plot, just Megatron taking his pleasure from Soundwave. Who still doesn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally writtenfor the tf kink meme. Re-written and very much improved by the hard work of the lovely [accidentalzombi](http://accidentalzombi.livejournal.com/)
> 
> Prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9739998#t9739998

Fighting the urge to impale himself right away, Megatron pressed his exposed equipment against the tip of Soundwave’s spike and ground against the sleek length. He continued to tease himself just a bit longer, as if to prove that he was still completely in control. Their fluids mingled in a manner that looked downright filthy.

“Don’t move… ” he repeated needlessly as he finally guided the curved tip inside. Before he could stop himself, he groaned; it was a muffled sound that was almost drowned out by the combined noise of their cooling fans. 

When he started to lower himself down, Megatron’s spark gave an excited flutter behind his chest plates. He had deprived himself of this far too long. Callipers closed eagerly around smooth metal, their grip strong and unyielding, even as they were pushed apart inch by inch. He knew that his valve should be able to accommodate Soundwave’s girth without difficulty, but it turned out to be a tighter fit than he remembered.

Part of him wanted to draw out the experience, to savor the feeling of being penetrated slowly, of being filled with something substantially bigger than his own fingers. But Megatron’s patience gave out and he sheathed the whole length in his valve with one swift motion. 

At first there was a surprising lack of sensory feedback, besides the relieving sense of fullness. The majority of deeper seated nodes had been inactive for longer than Megatron cared to admit; now they obviously needed a few moments to recalibrate. Impatient with himself and his body’s slow response, Megatron refused to wait. He rocked his hips as soon as he was fully seated, only to go suddenly rigid. 

Long dormant nodes activated with a jolt of electric charge and a sudden wave of pleasure drowned out all other sensations. It rolled through his spinal strut and melted everything in its wake. The flood of data almost overwhelmed him for a moment. Megatron was not sure, but he suspected he made a somewhat disgraceful sound. 

His spark continued to whirl in what was half reflexive resistance and half desperate desire, but Megatron forced himself to take up a steady rhythm. He repeatedly pushed himself up on his knees before bringing his hips back down all the way. Soundwave’s spike slid in and out of him easily now, lubricant warmed by friction and spread evenly by steady thrusts. 

Without making a conscious decision to do so, Megatron’s optics had offlined. He brought them back online with an annoyed huff and took in the sight below him. Soundwave’s servos had curled around the edges of the berth to steady himself, but he had not moved otherwise, save for being rhythmically rocked against the berth under Megatron’s assault. 

For a moment Megatron was absurdly glad that Soundwave did not have a face. He knew the unreadable screen was considered disconcerting by most mechs, but it had always held a strange appeal for Megatron, especially during interfacing. 

The Decepticon leader briefly wondered if Soundwave was recording their encounter; he found that he was not really troubled by the thought. Compared to most of the other recordings Soundwave had in his possession… 

Megatron bit back a moan that threatened to escape between his tightly closed lip plates. An idea flashed through his processor. One day he should ask Soundwave to replay some of those scenes for him. Oh, that would certainly prove interesting. For today, Megatron had watched enough video material, inspiring as it was. 

As he put more and more force into his thrusts, Megatron forced his processor out of his fantasy and back to the present. Every time his thighs hit Soundwave’s plating with a muffled clang, the impact sent a wash of pleasure through his lower body. Normally his heavy armor did not allow for much sensitivity in his aft and upper legs. It was as if his whole frame was somehow more sensitive, more desperate than usual.

Despite the pleasant sensations, Megatron found it difficult to relax completely. There was no longer any discomfort from the deeper seated sensor nodes in his valve -- quite the opposite actually -- but his legs felt strangely weak. Megatron did not like feeling weak on principle. The little jolts of electricity over his plating and the charge building in his valve partly made up for it, but it still bothered the warlord. 

In many respects interfacing was similar to fighting; Megatron had always held that to be true. It was all about not showing any weaknesses. Experimentally, he increased the pace of his thrusts, impaled himself with more vigorous movements, tried lifting his hips higher in order to bring them down with more force. 

It was intense and amazing, but it was still _not enough_.

The force of Megatron’s movements rocked both of them on the massive berth. Not once did Megatron consider the comfort of the slender mech trapped beneath his heavy frame, knowing from experience that Soundwave was strong enough to take whatever he had to offer -- and was more than willing to do so. 

In the past, Soundwave had always seemed to enjoy it when Megatron showed off his superior physical strength. Megatron never had to restrain himself. His loyal spy, on the other hand, was usually more than satisfied with holding himself back and watching Megatron’s pleasure. Him being the cause of it had always been enough for Soundwave, as he had often demonstrated.

Had he still been capable of clear thought, Megatron would have remembered all this, would have probably acknowledged Soundwave’s loyalty and his willingness to obey his every command, but such considerations were far from his mind in this moment. All he could concentrate on was the friction in his valve and his steadily rising core temperature. 

Megatron’s vents hitched as they worked hard to cool down his heated frame. Warnings started to pop up in his HUD. Every time he shoved his hips down, sparks of pleasure flared briefly in his valve as tiny sensors were stimulated relentlessly; they constantly buzzed with charge. Overload, however, felt still very much out of reach. 

Desperate for relief but unable to do something about it, Megatron’s frustration made itself known in a growl. He did not like how needy he sounded, but he couldn’t bring himself to care very much at this point. 

Soundwave took the noise as a clue to move slightly. He changed the angle of his body in a way that Megatron would not have noticed, if it weren’t for the sudden pleasure that spiked in his groin. 

_Frag…_

A visible shudder wracked Megatron’s huge frame. In his current state, it took him a while to figure out what had changed. The spike’s curved tip now rubbed against a sensor cluster on the far side of his valve, one that was obviously very sensitive. His intakes hitched as he impaled himself again at the same angle, harder this time. 

Claws clenched and unclenched and Megatron grunted as his valve walls did the same. His body seemed to remember how to react to the new sensations even if his processor did not. Every time Megatron succeeded in hitting the right spot dead on, his sensor net triggered a reflexive contraction, trying to prolong the pleasure. Against his will, his thrusts grew slower and more controlled, as he instinctively tried to get as much stimulation as possible. 

Time seemed to stretch infinitely for Megatron. It was impossible that only half a cycle had passed since he had called Soundwave to his quarters; it felt like much, much longer. His internal chronometer was surely malfunctioning. 

All further thoughts were swept away by the rising charge. Megatron focused only on hitting that particular sensor cluster, again and again, until he felt dizzy with ecstasy. Several times he came perilously close to the edge, but then his rhythm or angle changed slightly and he lost it again. He might have moaned in frustration then, but he no longer slagging cared. 

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally caught up with his elusive overload. A vicious surge of energy tore through his entire sensor net at an almost unbearably slow speed. 

Overload began in his valve with a series of reflexive contractions. Callipers clamped down hard and triggered the inner lining’s erratic twitching, which seemed to go on relentlessly for a few kliks. Searing-hot pleasure spread from there. It rushed through Megatron’s silver frame and made him freeze in mid-thrust. Energy flared across his plating until it had nowhere else to go and was directed into the mech below him.

Immediately, his processor struggled to recover from the surge, while his valve still throbbed pleasantly around the spike deep inside of him. Despite the aftershocks that still tingled through his systems, Megatron was quick to recover his senses. It was a matter of preference as well as necessity, a habit from his days as a gladiator, when he could not allow his interface partner to be unsupervised during such a moment of vulnerability. 

Thus he immediately knew that something was off, even before most of his systems were back online. He felt Soundwave trembling between his thighs as he clutched the berth hard enough to dent the metal. His EM field shivered around them both. 

It took a few astroseconds before Megatron realized that Soundwave had not overloaded.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron is determined to make Soundwave overload. This was supposed to be a reward for him, after all.

A quick check of his systems told Megatron that he was not imagining things in the haze of post overload pleasure. Still, he had trouble believing his own optics. There was just no way Soundwave could have resisted the wave of energy surging through their frames. Not after he had already brought him to the brink of climax earlier. The force of Megatron’s overload should have been more than enough to push him over the edge as well. 

After he got over his initial shock, Megatron’s anger began to stir at the information and all it implied. No one resisted him. That anyone would not overload while interfacing with him was unheard of. In Soundwave’s case, this was very much unprecedented.

Had Soundwave’s spike not felt so good buried in his still twitching port, his temper would have probably gotten the better of him. Still under the influence of his powerful overload, Megatron just narrowed his optical ridges and looked down at the mech on his berth.

The clearer his thoughts became, the more he became aware of the almost imperceptible shifting of Soundwave’s hips. Trapped under his much greater weight, Soundwave was unable to move much, but his wriggling translated into a pleasant vibration in Megatron’s valve, which only served to further distract him from his indignation. 

However, when Soundwave caught up on his leader’s displeasure, he immediately stopped his squirming and kept himself very still, screen a dull glow as he lifted it to regard Megatron. 

Usually Megatron had no problems reading the mood of his Third-in-Command, but now he was at a loss. There was only so much he could deduce from Soundwave’s posture and his other, more subtle tells, and right now most of what Megatron saw was rather contradictory. Easier to read at such a close range was Soundwave’s EM field, which radiated _devotion_ and _submission_ , but also something else he failed to grasp at the moment.

Now that his undivided attention was on his interface partner, Megatron realized for the first time how hot Soundwave‘s systems were running. Even the air coming from his vents was scorching. Megatron’s servos reached out and stroked along the warm metal curiously. Shifting on his knees, he rocked his hips against the source of the pulsing heat, once, twice, then took up an unhurried pace. The ensuing ripple through Soundwave’s EM field was extremely gratifying and his anger vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced once more by a startling rush of desire. 

Megatron’s awareness no longer focused only on the sensations crashing through his own frame, but also on the mech between his legs. He noticed the almost inaudible gasps of static which occasionally escaped Soundwave’s vocalizer. Megatron’s spark pulsed in answer to each and every one of them. It was so rare that he managed to draw out such a response from the stoic mech.

_Pits, he would make Soundwave overload!_

Determined to see the limits of Soundwave’s self-control, Megatron experimented with the angle of penetration and went as far as to stop moving completely for as long as he could hold out. When that failed to cause any reaction, he rose on his knees until the spike slid out almost all the way. Silvery fluid trickled down his thighs where they were joined, making a mess on Soundwave’s dark plating and the berth. Megatron’s desire went up another few notches at the sight . 

To his surprise, he felt the charge in his valve building again. Soundwave, on the other hand, still did not show any signs of impending overload. Megatron realized that this strategy was not going to succeed; his patience was going to wear out a lot faster than Soundwave’s. He decided to change tactics. 

Megatron sorted through his memory files and tried to methodically access all of his past encounters with Soundwave. Was there anything he had overlooked? There must be something he could use to his advantage. Megatron was more than a little distracted, but he forced himself to concentrate on his research. 

When he drew his claws over Soundwave’s sides, following glowing purple lines in search of sensitive seams, an idea began to form in his processor. His servo slid higher on the angular chest, circling the sockets of Soundwave’s data cables. 

“Release them.”

The feelers extended from Soundwave’s chest without delay. They hovered uncertainly in the air until Megatron grabbed one of them and pulled it against his chest. He stroked the smooth texture with a firm grip. 

Soundwave bucked his hips wildly and so suddenly that it would have thrown a lighter mech off, but Megatron was not so easily dislodged. He had expected the reaction, or at least hoped for it. A lopsided smile gave him a decidedly smug expression as he continued to fondle the cable in his grasp. His claws slid along the purple ridges with calculated touches, all the while keeping an eye on Soundwave’s reactions. 

The effectiveness of his new tactic was impressive. Throwing his head from side to side, Soundwave shivered violently, hips jerking upwards helplessly every now and then to meet Megatron’s thrusts. It was captivating to watch him like this, arching up against him with abandon. Frankly, Megatron could not remember having ever made Soundwave do something so arousing.

For all his trashing, Soundwave still had not overloaded, and Megatron was rapidly losing his patience. With every one of Soundwave’s attempts at arching off the berth, his spike pressed against that particular sensor cluster that made the warlord see white at the edges of his vision. Only his pride kept him from abandoning all restraint and riding Soundwave to his next overload. 

The moment Megatron let go of the convulsing feeler, it wrapped around his midsection, sliding around his waist several times. The second tentacle-like appendage joined the first, writhing in obvious pleasure over his frame and boldly stroking the back of his thighs. It was the first time Soundwave touched him back, Megatron realized. 

Soundwave held him close, his data cables pulsing against Megatron’s plating. Their heat seeped through even his thick armor and their relentless grip limited his range of movement, but he could not bring himself to chide Soundwave for that. 

Soundwave had stopped responding quite so violently as soon as his feelers were released. He laid back against the berth, his screen going completely dark.  
As he took in the sight of the lithe frame tensing all over, Megatron sensed victory. He focused completely on sliding up and down the spike, squeezing down hard and pushing his EM field against Soundwave’s for good measure. The air around them shimmered with the tension in their energy fields.

 _He would make Soundwave overload first._ Megatron repeated it over and over again in his processor, like a mantra. He concentrated completely on his task, increasing the speed of his thrusts with every klik. _He would make him overload. He would…_

Suddenly, and without the slightest warning, overload swept through Megatron for the second time. It took him completely by surprise and rendered him unable to move, unable to stop a long drawn-out groan from escaping his vocalizer. Everything happened too fast to do anything but surrender to the overwhelming sensations. 

All of the sensor nodes in his valve seemed to go off at once. For a brief moment it felt as if his spark was going to melt in his chest. Megatron’s vision whited out as his spark stuttered under the onslaught. 

Though it was over much quicker than his first overload, it took considerably longer to recover his senses this time. Megatron sucked air into his vents greedily, attempting to cool down his frame, while sorting through an impressive amount of internal error messages. Apparently his overload had been powerful enough to knock several subsystems offline. 

His optics did not react immediately to his attempts at rebooting. Megatron heard himself groan. His interface equipment was still buzzing with pleasure, but his midsection felt somehow constricted and very hot. Soundwave’s data cables, he realized belatedly, were still holding on to him. 

When Megatron managed to online his optics, Soundwave’s visor was only inches from his face, its smooth surface trembling ever so slightly. Other than that, Soundwave was lying eerily still. The frantic shifting of his EM field and the little flashes of electricity flittering across his frame made it obvious to Megatron though. Soundwave still had not overloaded.

Megatron was so dazed by his own climax that he did not even get angry. A strange sense of detachment filled him as he sat up, spark swirling lazily in contentment. He could not muster the will to say something, or to at least scowl at Soundwave, whose whole being radiated nothing but despair and barely contained agony. Megatron shook his head. It did not make sense.

In hindsight, Megatron could not pinpoint what finally tipped him off. Maybe it was the way Soundwave’s EM field opened up to him in surrender while simultaneously trying to draw back further into itself. Maybe it was the spark pulsing wildly right under his servo in helpless anticipation. Maybe Megatron’s second overload had finally cleared his thoughts enough to see what was right before his optics. 

Understanding finally dawned upon Megatron. He hooked one clawed finger under Soundwave’s visor and lifted it up to meet his gaze, commanding the mech’s complete attention. A wicked smile revealed sharp teeth, mirrored by the dark screen. 

“Your performance has been nothing short of exceptional, Soundwave.”

Megatron let his voice wash over his loyal subordinate, assuming an air of magnanimity. He modulated every syllable carefully, allowed his tones to reflect just _how_ pleased he really was. 

“Of course, I did not expect anything less from you.”

Megatron’s smile widened a few inches.

“You may overload now.” 

And as simple as that, he felt Soundwave buck under him, complying with Megatron’s wishes just as he had all night. A few words were all it took to push him over the edge. 

Megatron took hold of Soundwave’s shoulders and pressed them down firmly against the berth, watching the lithe frame shake all over in ecstasy. As usual, Soundwave was silent in overload. The only sounds in the room were their straining fans and the rattling of Soundwave’s upper body, metal scraping against metal as recurrent tremors passed through him.

Head thrown back wide and thoroughly immobilized by Megatron’s weight, Soundwave pulled his feelers tighter and tighter around his master’s waist. Their constricting grip might have worried any other mech, but Megatron just delighted in their strength. A gush of hot transfluid washed against his oversensitive valve sensors, making his own hips jerk involuntarily and prompting a pleased growl.

While he was easing Soundwave through the worst of his overload, Megatron marvelled at the immense strength of will that the mech had shown today. He had not planned this, had not intended to deny Soundwave release for so long, even though the result had been stunning. 

He understood that this was something Soundwave had enjoyed, wanted, even orchestrated to some degree. Still, the sense of power he felt at this very moment was almost enough to make his desire flare up again.

It took some time until Soundwave stopped shaking completely. He had been virtually silent during overload. Only now he started humming softly, an eerie high-frequency sound. Almost reluctantly the feelers retracted, leaving behind a feeling of emptiness. Megatron noticed their absence even more acutely than the sudden emptiness in his valve, after he sat back and closed his panel. 

Calmer and more relaxed than he had been in a long time, he stretched out on the massive berth. Exhaustion started to pull at his consciousness. It seemed as if his processor had finally caught up with the strain and struggles of the past few cycles, threatening to initiate recharge without Megatron’s permission. 

Soundwave had started to clean himself perfunctorily. Knowing his communications chief, Megatron supposed he would go back to work as soon as he was allowed to leave. He did not seem to care that no one could possibly miss what he had been doing during the past cycle. Or with whom. 

When he was done making himself halfway presentable, Soundwave nodded once, silently asking to be dismissed. Before he could get up, however, Megatron raised a servo to his chest, right where Laserbeak normally rested, and bid him wait. 

“I trust that you enjoyed your reward, Soundwave?” Another nod. 

“Very well…” Megatron murmured in an uncharacteristically soft voice, not sure what else there was to say, before he waved at his most loyal servant in dismissal. He relaxed against the berth’s surface and allowed his systems to initiate the much needed recharge, silently vowing to himself that he would not let eons elapse before ordering Soundwave to his berth again.

Then he remembered something else. 

“And do check on ... Orion for me, Soundwave. See that he has everything he needs.”

Before he drifted into recharge, Megatron thought he saw Soundwave’s retreating form freeze for a nanoklik. Later he would convince himself that he had imagined it. When the automatic doors slid closed behind Soundwave, Megatron was already deep in recharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into the longest fic I've ever written, and it is almost purely porn. I feel strangely accomplished. :)
> 
> If you liked my attempt at TFP Megatron/Soundwave or have feedback (criticism, suggestions etc.) feel free to leave a comment.


End file.
